


I Dreamt of You

by historiCthrenody (Cookieluv246)



Series: Saudade:: [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Daddy Issues, Incest, M/M, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Parent/Child Incest, Sad, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 20:50:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookieluv246/pseuds/historiCthrenody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I never asked for this you know.<br/>I never asked for any of this.<br/>It hurts, but i'm stuck here.<br/>Stuck here, like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Dreamt of You

I had a dream about you.

It was fun at first.

No school, no work, just _us_.

We baked, and I watched cartoons as you sat beside me smoking your pipe. You looked happy-- serene even. It filled me with a certain calm too, like things were going to be just fine, and that all I needed was to be here in this moment. Nothing could penetrate this feeling, nothing could delude the smell of baked goods around the house or the warmth of your heavy arm around my shoulder. The light rubbing gesture, comforting; safe. You always made me feel so small, I could become lost in your shadow. But I was always pretty ok with that, ok with you being there, I always was able to trust that about you. 

I was always able to trust in your smile. Trust in your smell. Trust in your eyes, but no, I could never trust in myself.

So of course, it only went downhill from there.

I  kissed you. Just a peck that reached the corner of your lips. Nothing more, nothing less. You raised a brow at me, but gave a reassuring smile, showing off your age and you laughed. Jokingly expressing how nice it was to be granted with a son that still had time to care for his dad. "You always were affectionate." Chirping out how pleased you were to have such an emotionally honest son. The son you always wanted, and could never hope to have been gifted with anything better.

  
But you didn't know. You couldn't know. 

But I yearned for so much more.

I stayed silent, lips clasped together knowing that anything I'd say would betray me. I scanned your face, watching you expectantly. What was I expecting to find? Nothing I suppose. 

You brought down your pipe, and I ceased the opportunity. A kiss. Right on the lips.Those masculine, lightly dampened lips that tasted so herbal with a twang of spice. Air was difficult to come by, it felt so thick and hot so sudden. I couldn't worry about my teeth fumbling about your mouth. I just needed the taste, your taste, anything and everything. My fingers anchored down tightly woven into your sleeve, but my mind felt afloat. In reality, it was quick and desperate, and anxious and needy and--

I was met with a loud clasp on my shoulder, there was no comfort, no safety, just alarm.

"What are you doing son?"

I flinched, eyes still shut and breath still thick, yet my face felt cold and my heart was having a head to toe race with guilt. Guilt was winning. Your tone was blank, stern, the amusement long subsided and I could literally feel the color shift out the room. _Stolen by the breeze_. You pushed me away by my shoulders, hand still gripped tight and I could feel your brows furrow, every wrinkle that formed your disapproving glance and every white hair that you would sprout among all this confusion.

When I finally opened my eyes, I didn't look you in the face. I couldn't.

"Johnathan."

Wince. The room felt heavier, what was once a scene of familiarity felt like such a stranger. Or maybe, I was the stranger?

"Johnathan, look at me."

No. I told myself to hang in there, but my body had stopped belonging to me a long time ago. I could never disobey you for long, huh dad?  
So, I looked up-- to your horrified expression. It was worse then I could have ever imagined; I had been most afraid of seeing this. I was suddenly a monster, an alien to who you thought you knew. To the little boy you loved. I was a stranger in a familiar body, and I ruined something so blissful forever because of a second urge. This could no longer be brushed off as mere innocent affection. Something shattered between us.

The lie.

It would never stop, the scene had already been played out, and everything grew fuzzy as your once bright features turned blue. Your lips a burnt dull purple and your chest soaking dark crimson drops in your perfectly white attire. Your blue eyes dulled grey as if blind to complete and utter void, and I knew.

You were dying.

_Right in front of me._

And this time there was no Jack who stabbed you.

It was my fault.

I fucked us up dad...

I fucked up _our_ dream. 

I woke up in anguish, knowing what horror I did, and after I calmed the tears, my heart never stopped. I knew I did something wrong. And I was terrified. I could only wish and wish that you were a fabricated memory and I hadn't just...

What was I crying for?

**Author's Note:**

> I tried something a little different this time, and even made this a series. I wonder if I'll be able to produce anything joyful from this. Probably not.


End file.
